


How Did It End Up Like This?!

by SimplyTsundere



Series: Mind If I.....Slyther-In? [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, But For Now Enjoy This, He's A Wolf In Sheeps Clothing, Hogwarts Sixth Year, Jean Is A Little Shit, M/M, Marco Bott & Ymir Are Twins, Marco Uses His Pretty Smile To Get By, Marco is a shit, Quidditch, Rated PG-13, Sloppy Makeouts, Slytherin Marco, Smug Marco, This Series Will Get Raunchy, for now, gryffindor jean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-13 10:54:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9120571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SimplyTsundere/pseuds/SimplyTsundere
Summary: After 5 years of ruthlessly teasing Jean Kirschtein, Marco Bodt has suddenly been introduced to how fickle fate is. Blooming late Jean returns for their 6th year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry looking better than he'd ever imagined. Will that stop his teasing? Of course not but will it begin to give way to other developments? You bet.First quidditch practice of the season and Marco is thrown off his game. Things take their first turn for the positively scandalous when one basilisk in sheep's clothing takes a liking to a lordly lion.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DorianDarkstar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DorianDarkstar/gifts).



> Alright, so this is just going to be a series of awful little things I post for the laughs when I need to get my creative juices flowing but don't want to touch a multi-chapter fic. This kept me sane during all this crazy stuff going on as of late. In this series you'll find related drabbles of the Slytherin prince Marco Bodt and the suddenly attractive Gryffindor Jean Kirschtein. From awkward, angsty, emotional word vomits, pranks galore, to making out behind the pitch, and playing "get him off under the table" in transmog. these drabbles will be anything and everything under the sun just for some good witchy fun!
> 
> For those wondering everyone was sorted with reasoning of how houses are actually sorted aside from one or two we took creative liberties with. 
> 
> ~Slytherin Pride,  
> ❤♠Neko❤♠

"Ugh," the blonde scowled _"great._ What do you mean we have a practice match against those assholes today?"

Marco sighed, running his fingers through his hair "What does it sound like I said? I said we're playing Gryffindor today to prepare for the game this weekend. Now, get your fucking feet off my trunk before I turn you into a mole again, Reiner."

Shifting his glacial eyes narrowly at Marco he grinned "You wouldn't _dare..."_

Opening the left side of his robe moving for his breast pocket Marco arched a brow, impish grin curving his lips as he spoke "Care to _try_ me, Brute?"

"Knock it off, you two," came a call around the bend from a tall brunette "or else Erwin is going to give you both detention and deduct points. I really prefer you keep your spats civil."

Reiner shifted his gaze to that of their company "But babe--"

"Don't you _"but babe"_ me Reiner. Enough. Now, get your gear on you two, we have a match to win," he spoke sternly before taking a seat on the foot of his bed.

Marco rolled his chocolate eyes "Sure, sure. It'll be nice watching Kirschtein eat dirt."

"God, what is up with you and that kid?" Reiner called as he began to fetch his gear.

"Just like to have a good bit of fun is all," Marco chirped pleasantly as he began to tighten his leather breastplate "besides, don't you enjoy it when you watch the red and gold get a little dirty?"

"As much as the next Slytherin," he admitted "but sometimes I think you enjoy it a bit _too_ much."

Unable to prevent his raucous laughter Marco doubled over "Ahahaha! Coming from you that's **rich!"** Taking a seat on the bedspread embroidered in silver thread laying atop his ancient four-poster canopy bed with green silk hangings, Marco allowed himself a moment. He had to give his teammates a moment to finish anyhow. Laying out on his back he shifted his head over towards the window noticing the coral tentacles and polar suction cups attached them drag across the glass. Sleeping beneath the Black Lake could be interesting some days with the aquatic life swimming by and the alluring sound of the rolling water lapping against the window at night was relaxing....not so much on others as when the selkies decided to surprise him with a screech at the window just for a laugh. With a sigh heaved he sat up and began to get his feet once Reiner and Bertholdt had finished getting ready.

Together the three of them headed out of the dormitory and up the stairs to cross the grounds. Upon their exit Marco gave his sister a nod in greeting awaiting her to join at his side. Dressed in their emerald robes, broomsticks in hand, the foursome made their way to the quidditch pitch where their three other players and an army of crimson and gold met them. Of the 7 players across from them, one took a step forward to meet Marco as he did the same. Standing just a pinch shorter than himself, with tufts of flaxen and pecan hair, was the captain of the Gryffindor quidditch team: Jean Kirschtein.

Pale lips curling into a smug smile, as those amber orbs gleamed so mischievously towards him, Jean extended a hand out in sign of a good game. All he found himself wanting to do in return was remove his gloves and wipe that smirk off his gorgeous, angular, insolent face instead of shaking his hand. Every molecule in his body swirled with the desire to wipe the match with him but he knew in that moment he needed to play nice.

Doing just that he smiled his charming smile and gave a curt nod of his head as he winked a russet eye "Good luck, Kirschtein, better hope a bludger doesn't find you." Ignoring his words Jean simply rejoined his teammates and mounted his broom awaiting the moment the game would be signaled to start. At the shrill scream of the silver whistle everyone was aloft whisking by one another at breakneck speeds. In all honesty Marco knew not keeping his head in the game would be a dangerous move, the bludgers came out of nowhere and one could easily, and swiftly, break any bone it came into contact with. Unfortunately he was too busy watching a certain Gryffindor chaser toss the quaffle straight through a ring to score.

Cursing beneath his breath, Marco shook his head trying to clear away the dense haze fogging his mind. It was a blur of motion as he got his head into the game taking elbow shots from other players as he bat a bludger towards the tail of Jean's broom. Watching him spin out for a moment before regaining his control made him a chortle a bit before he lost control himself. The Gryffindor's male beater shot him a beaming grin as he waggled his fingers shifting his turquoise eyes to him. Marco found Eren Jaeger and his partner beater on the field Isabel Magnolia, two of the most annoying people on the face of the planet. The two were carbon copies of one another, smart asses with big mouths, short tempers, and pretty faces that led them to be rather popular amongst their housemates. To him they were just robes of crimson and gold that needed to eat more dirt to wipe that smirk off their faces.

To say their rivalry was a healthy one might boarder a bit on a bold faced lie. Sure, in any game it was nice to have a rival, to strive to beat, to make you a better player. None of what Marco hoped however was anything aside from inflicting an injury. It wasn't like any broken bone couldn't be healed with a simple spell so breaking something wasn't too big a deal anyhow, it was just entirely rude to aim for. The pigtailed redhead's shamrock eyes glistened with an abundance of mischievousness as she raised her bat with a sneer; it was clear she was aiming for the same thing he was. No matter. Marco had won this battle for the last 5 years, their 6th would be no different.

Batting the bludger towards whichever chaser was close enough to score was his prerogative while his twin focused on keeping the two halves of the same idiot, Gryffindor beater off his ass. Slytherin managed the second and third scores of the game but soon fell behind. After he himself no longer wore a sparkling target on his back his teammates did. Taking down 3 of their players with injuries after 2 hours....Marco knew this was not going to be a game to be in their favor though he trudged through. Throwing a few elbows to the same ribs of a couple chasers was easy enough, crack a few, make it hard to breathe. No one suspected Marco to hit nearly as hard as he did with such a small space and it was clear the referee for the game didn't either.

With enough players on both sides fighting through some battered bones and bruises the score had begun to even out when 70 was hit by Slytherin, who still trailed behind by 40 points. It wasn't enough to give a minor injury.....Marco didn't need eyes in the back of his head to see that his players were fatigued and having a rather hard time keeping up with their injuries. His seeker was injured, far off from catching the snitch to end it, so with that thought on the wire after the third hour he knew that there was only one more option left. If this game was going to end, he was going to have to concede.

Quidditch matches only ended when a player caught a snitch or both team captains agreed to end it. He and Jean had never had fun agreeing on when to call a game, usually because he was winning and he was always a bit of a smug winner, and Jean normally did not want to admit defeat to him. True, both teams were amazing, the strongest two, but their captain's discourse and pride were their own weaknesses. At any other point Marco would have refused to concede to the likes of Jean-fucking-Kirschtein but his players were wiped, his sister was hurt, and he knew due to their fatigue that they couldn't push the game longer to receive a two hour time.

Acidic taste already forming bitterly in his mouth Marco waved his wand in a high circular motion above his head "Verdimillious." Glowing green, an orb of energy was thrown from the tip of his wand, exploding several feet above them in a blinding flash. The referee sounded the whistle, sending a sharp trill piercing through the air as she came to hover at his side. Waving Jean over Marco waited patiently until he made it to the other side of the ref.

"I concede," he uttered through gritted teeth "my players are done. I'm not putting them through anymore." Of course his words had caused a wide feline grin to split Jean's face nearly molar to molar. The image of his glee was almost sickening. 

Jean held his head a little higher "I see, so the mighty Marco Bodt and his snakes couldn't even handle a practice game. Hate to see how we'll wipe the pitch with you Saturday. I accept your conceit and agree to cease play."

The referee nodded "Game end. 140-70 Gryffindor wins!" Lye-like words reaching his ears Marco sighed and touched down to the ground. He sent his players, that needed to go, off to the infirmary to be looked after. Once most players were gone as Jean did the same the two of them and their referee were on the ground together. After the ref scored their game and injuries she left the collection and storage of the game items to them. Since Marco was still in his beater's pads it was of course his job to catch the bludgers as Jean grabbed the snitch once calling it back. 

As they chained and locked the bludgers down in the chest Jean's smile only served to further irritate Marco. How fucking good looking could he be exactly? While he hated to admit that anymore, it was true that he looked dazzlingly gorgeous when he smiled. Never in a million years had he believed the dumpy little kid he'd been picking on since year one would hit a late puberty at 16 and come back to school only to remind him just how gay he was. Marco himself had always had his good looks: cute freckles, big, rich doe eyes, and a bewitching smile. Jean however seemed to hit a gold vein deposit of fucking beauty when returned to Hogwarts for their 6th year. It was almost unfair the way he was everything Marco had to pretend to be and now he'd even managed to outdo him in looks.

Charismatic, fun, sarcastic, blunt,  brimming with sass and a newly gained sex appeal Jean was just so unapologetically himself and yet people liked him still. Here was Marco placing his act of the kind, generous boy, who others couldn't quite understand why he'd been placed in Slytherin. Should he be himself and his attitude rear it's ugly head people would soon learn he could be manipulative with his pretty smile, he could be vindictive, and ultimately vicious if pushed too far. People were either cozy to him because they could use his influence for their own gain, they were scared of him, or somehow the close few he called friends had seen him under it all and still found him to be a great friend. Everything he wished he could be stared back at him in the form of Jean and it was just so easy to hate him for it.

Teasing him relentlessly for years was his way of taking out his frustrations for it. At no point did he see it as fair. His father always told him to be proud, that no matter what if someone tried to look down their noses at him, especially a Gryffindor, then he should show them why it's better to avoid doing so with a Bodt. His mother, however, was kind and strong and though her Slytherin blood was strong it wasn't as if she acted on underhanded thoughts and actions. Everyone loved her. He always believed if he could act like his mother people would like him while in earnest he'd gained his father's personality. Some part of him was the dork who did silly things with his friends just for laughs but no one else seemed to like that part of him, only the parts of him that earned him his reputation of being such a sweet boy.

Slytherin's all knew better of course but others were fooled. Others but Jean Kirschtein. It was almost as if he knew that smile on his face was false, it was the smile that made most smile in return, while others knowing better cringed. Jean could almost see through his bullshit, though he could also see that he was a bit scared of him. Good. It should kinda stay that way.....even if he kinda, sort of insanely, wanted Jean to see through it all. Was it so wrong of him to want to be liked for who he was? Even if that person was leaning towards stereotypical Slytherin? What was wrong with being ambitious and wanting to go to better places in life? For using means others were too kind, or ignorant, to? He was a strange mix of frightening and sweet, two sides a Slytherin coin, and there was nothing wrong with it in his mind.

In his mind, Jean was a guy he liked to tease because he had what he didn't and he wanted it. He wanted more than the same ability to be so free, he wanted Jean....some part of him wanted to have him, have what he couldn't....what he was always told he shouldn't. Jean pushed back, Jean teased him, found a will at times to shove back and he found it a sickeningly curious mix of erotic and frustrating. Just as he thought of it, while he'd been silently sifting through his thoughts carrying the equipment back to the hall, Jean's entrancing, teasing voice pierced his thoughts.

"Wow! The ever proud Marco Bodt speechless and sulking? Who would have thunk it was because we beat your ass? C'mon Bodt, losing to me can't be _so_ bad, I mean, _one day_ I'll let you forget it," he chided with a impish grin pulling at his lips. Marco's brow furrowed before he let it fall and he only smiled sweetly in return. Beneath it, he wanted to punch the smile off his face, but he could tell Jean saw it swirling his eyes. He'd been taken back a bit by his silent response and carried the box to the closet to store it away "You're not even going to tease me? 6 years of hell and the way to get you to shut up was personally whooping your ass on the pitch?! _Amazing._ Damn, I should have done it forever ago."

Having had enough of his smart ass mouth Marco dropped his hold on the trunk and shoved Jean back against the wall. One arm drawn back in a clenched fist the other, palm flat by the left side of his face. Hovering between furious and horribly aroused Marco could feel one emotion twisting the other. Jean was staring up into feral eyes with fear prominent on his face. All Marco did however was smack his hand to the wall and surprise him with the feeling of his lips. Kissing Jean was something he'd not really expected himself but in the moment the action concreted itself he snuck his hand up the back of Jean's neck knotting his fingers into his hair. Even he could tell at first it had surprised Jean but he was giving into him, he was kissing him back, and Marco felt his ego inflate.

All this time had this been what he wanted or was he caving just because someone had finally kissed him? Jean was tense, nervous, especially as Marco slipped his tongue by his lip. He'd felt him jump, even heard a soft whimper, but he soon pulled away. Staring down at him Marco languidly raked his eyes over his figure, taking in the submissive stance, and the bewildered expression on his heavy fuchsia flushed face. God, it was absolutely delectable seeing him like that. Reaching down, he lifted his chin and snickered lowly, his lips in danger of once again brushing Jean's.

"Who knew that was how to shut **you** up?" He uttered softly before shrugging and pushing himself away "Oh well. I got alchemy in a half hour. Next time you gloat to me, Kirschtein, I'll send a bludger to break _more_ than a couple of  your bones. See ya." Hand raising over his head he shuffled proudly out of the hall leaving Jean behind to slide down the wall and sit with his knees tucked to his chest. Unknowing of what had happened he sat there like a knot on a log wondering just what he'd done to deserve the treatment he'd experienced.


End file.
